


Shoshanat Yaakov (The Rose of Jacob)

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Antisemitism, Biblical Scripture References (Abrahamic Religions), Blood and Gore, Book of Esther - Freeform, Child Marriage, Drinking, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's the Bible, Other, Period-Typical Sexism, non-binary Aziraphale, what do you expect?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Crowley is enjoying herself in Shushan, until she finds out from Aziraphale that God is planning yet another catastrophe, and this time they're sure She won't intervene. Aziraphale and Crowley agree to work together to stop the evil Haman from commiting genocide and oppressing women.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be working on more chapters. If you read the Book of Esther, you'll know it gets disturbing, so be warned.

[](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lmDsm-nzn0bys7FqpZvYZtUfzYsQ6O5t/view?usp=drivesdk)


	2. Chapter 2

"Aziraphale! Fancy seeing you here!" Crowley exclaimed, setting down her goblet.  
"Yes, well, I'm not surprised to see you here, Crawly," Aziraphale muttered, glancing around nervously at the drunken crowd.  
"Uh, uh, Angel, it's Charvona for the time being," Crowley corrected with a smirk, "gotta fit in, y'know."  
Aziraphale pursed their lips, unamused.  
"Come, sit, Angel, talk to me. I haven't seen you since the Coronation," the ruddy demon smiled.  
"Craw- Charvona, you can't possibly act like this when you know what's to happen," Aziraphale rebuked, reluctantly sitting down next to the demon.  
"Know what?" Crowley asked softly, suddenly sobering up.  
"You really don't know, do you?" Aziraphale gasped in horror.  
Crowley scanned the angel's face worriedly.  
"Aziraphale," she rasped, "what's being planned?"  
Aziraphale scanned the banquet hall nervously before finally telling Crowley.  
"The Almighty is upset with how Her people have been conducting themselves,"  
"Big surprise there"  
"And She's decided to wipe them out," they said seriously.  
Crowley caughed. By now she was getting used to the Almighty's little dance. She would get upset with Her people, threaten destruction, then swoop in at the last minute with some grand miracle and save them.  
"So? She'll give them a bit of a scare, then save them like She always does," she retorted.  
Aziraphale shook their head sadly.  
"She isn't going to. She's cut off Her connection."  
Crowley paled as she realized Aziraphale was serious.  
"B-but, no miracles, that also means no miraculous disasters, right? No floods, no fires…" she tried reasoning, playing with her braid.  
"I'm afraid She's already chosen Her method," Aziraphale confided, suddenly very much in need of a drink.  
"What?" Crowley asked, afraid of the answer.  
"Him."  
Aziraphale pointed to the king's diminutive advisor, who was currently ogling at the dancers.  
"Haman? That fool?"  
"I'm afraid so."  
Crowley blinked in disbelief.  
"That man is a lunatic. He could never-"  
The demon was interrupted by the king's booming voice echoing across the chambers.  
"BRING ME MY QUEEN, SO THAT I MAY SHOW HER BEAUTY TO THE WORLD"  
Crowley rolled her eyes in disgust and Aziraphale sighed. Stupid, drunken, perverted king. In just a matter of minutes, Vashti would walk into the room, dressed in nothing but her crown, and perform for the king and his courtiers. It happened every time the king got drunk, which was too often. He treated the queen like a whore.  
"He really ought to show her more resssspect. She comesss from far higher namessss than he," the demon muttered to Aziraphale.  
Aziraphale agreed, and the pair waited with bated breaths for the poor queen's arrival.  
Minutes passed, and still she didn't come.  
"He's not going to be happy," Crowley grimaced.  
A nervous looking servant walked in and whispered something to the king, who exploded in anger.  
"WHAT?! SHE IS MY WIFE, SHE MUST OBEY ME! TELL THAT WHORE SHE DOESN'T GET TO DECIDE!" he bellowed, and the trembling servant scrambled out to give the queen the message.  
By now, the entire banquet hall was transfixed on the scene unfolding. The queen refusing to come? No one ever refused the king.  
Aziraphale bit their lip anxiously and Crowley fidgeted in her seat.  
The servant returned and made his way to the king, looking very nervous. He bowed his head, afraid of the king's reaction to the news he had to deliver.  
When the king heard his answer, his face turned white with fury.  
He called his advisors, while the demon and angel discretely eavesdropped to see what would happen. The king always consulted his advisors. He was a bit of a buffoon, extremely superstitious, and always afraid someone would usurp him.  
"What's to be done?" he asked worriedly.  
His advisors looked at each other nervously. They were politicians, not marriage counselors. Should they say what thought? That the king really ought to show Vashti some dignity?  
The scheming Haman, of course, had other ideas. He was always looking for more power. He was greatly disappointed when the king had married Vashti. Haman wanted his daughter to be queen, but no, the king had to make a political marriage. His daughter could always become one of the king's consorts, but Haman didn't want his daughter to be just another toy for the king. He wanted the title, the name, the fame. Alas, Vashti was queen, and although she despised him, the king would never part with her. She was the granddaughter of the legendary Nebuchadnezzar, after all, and her family name legitimized the king's rule.  
But……  
If the king felt that Vashti jeopardized his reign…..  
"My king, if I may," he began, smiling a toothy smile.  
"The queen hasn't only disrespected you. Her disobedience to her husband, to the king, no less, will surely inspire other women to do the same. All the women of the land will think they can choose for themselves, and disobey their husbands. It will be chaos, the social order completely overturned!"  
Haman clasped a hand to his chest dramatically.  
Crowley rolled her eyes. Since when did women have to listen to their husbands? As far as she knew, the whole idea was quite a recent one. Marriage, as she understood it, was supposed to be a holy partnership, not a purchase. Even a demon could understand that.  
The king's eyes widened as he realized that Haman had a point. It would be an upheaval! He couldn't have that.  
"Then what should I do?"  
Now Haman licked his lips wickedly.  
"Make an example of her. Execute her, and let it be known what shall be done to wives who disobey their husbands."  
Aziraphale gasped. That man was insane, a lunatic. They looked at their companion, who clenched her fists in anger. 

The next day, an execution was held in the palace court. A rowdy crowd had showed up, as executions were quite the entertainment. And they had never seen a queen executed before. What a show!

An angel and a demon were in the crowd. A part of them felt they had to be there. 

"She didn't deserve it," Crowley muttered under her breath as the executioner held up Vashti's bloody head.  
"I mean, she wasn't the greatest person to walk the Earth, she could be nasty at times, but she didn't deserve this!" she gestured at the stage in disgust.  
"Did you know her?" Aziraphale asked.  
"Yeah. It'sss how I ended up in this Godforsssssaken place. My lot wanted me to tempt her into torturing a bunch of Jewish handmaidens."  
The angel clapped a hand over their mouth in horror.  
"Don't worry. I didn't actually do it. Couldn't bring myself to, y'know? I mean, those girls were practically kids," she shook her head.  
"Like I said, Vashti wasn't the best of people. But there are few people who deserve this."  
Vashti's head was mounted on a pike as the crowd cheered.  
Aziraphale had to look away, feeling they just might retch.  
Crowley, however, forced herself to gaze at the monstrosity.  
"Is this what She wants to happen to Her people?" she asked softly.  
Aziraphale took Crowley's hand.  
"Please, I can't take any more of this," they begged, pulling the demon away from the crazed crowd. 

"I need a drink," Crowley announced once she and the angel were out of the courtyard. They could still hear the commotion.  
"Me too," agreed Aziraphale, looking a little pale. 

"Give me and my husband whatever you think's drinkable," Crowley told the bartender when she and Aziraphale walked into the alehouse.  
Whenever they presented as opposite genders, the angel and demon pretended to be married. They didn't want to bring any unwanted attention to themselves.  
The bartender ignored her, and continued sweeping.  
"I said, give me and my husband a drink," the demon repeated, tapping her foot.  
The bartender looked at her, and turned to Aziraphale.  
"You should teach your wife some respect," he told them crossly.  
"Excuse me, I'll have-" the demon sputtered indignantly before Aziraphale put a hand on her shoulder.  
"I'm terribly sorry, sir. My wife is just a tad tired. Can you please take her order?"  
The bartender looked at Crowley incredulously.  
"I will take your order, sir, and you can choose a drink for your insolent woman," he told the angel, and Crowley felt her stomach twist into knots.  
She hated the way the bartender looked at her, like she was beneath him, squirming at his feet. It was humiliating and infuriating. What had Haman done to her Shushan? Just the other day it wasn't like this. Oh, sure, she'd get a scold reprimand if she cursed, but she was never treated like property just for appearing female. It made her want to punch the man.  
"I think my wife and I will take our leave," Aziraphale announced with strained sweetness.  
The two left in a huff. 

"Angel, I don't care what you think, but I will take down that Haman if it's the last thing I do," Crowley informed Aziraphale when they were back on the streets.  
Aziraphale let out a breath slowly.  
"That's a little angelic of you, Cr-Charvona," they said mischievously.  
"No it isn't. Purely selfish," the demon insisted.  
"Right…"  
Aziraphale was dubious of that.  
"Besides, once Haman is out of the picture, the city can go back to its hedonist ways."  
Aziraphale chuckled at the demon's feeble justifications.  
"So," Crowley turned to Aziraphale expectantly.  
"What?"  
"Will you help me?"  
"Of course I'll help you, you idiot. I have to stop the evils Haman is spreading!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Crowley's neighbours, Marduk and Ishtar.

Crowley was sleeping peacefully in her flat when she was rudely woken by pounding on her door.   
She grumbled as she sleepily opened the door. It was her neighbour, Marduk, and his young niece Ishtar.   
"Yes?"  
Marduk looked frantic, and his weary eyes were darting about.   
"May we come in?" he asked quietly.   
"Of course, come in."  
She ushered the two inside, and quietly closed the door behind them.   
Marduk was a strange fellow, to say the least, but Crowley tolerated him. He was mysterious, and obviously has been through some kind of trauma. Perhaps she empathized with him on that. He was also kind, and did his best to be a good father to Ishtar.   
Ishtar was twelve years old, wise beyond her years. Her father had died before she was born, her mother at childbirth, so Marduk had adopted her. Crowley had met them when she moved to Shushan, when Ishtar was only a toddler.   
Marduk wasn't in any sense a holy man. He was learned, at least compared to the other Jews, but he tried his best to do the right thing. He wasn't condescending, not like some Rabbis Crowley had met.   
"What can I do for you at this late hour?" Crowley asked once Marduk and Ishtar were sat around her table.  
"The king issued a new order," Marduk revealed, biting his lip.  
"Shit."  
"Of course, it hasn't been released to the public yet, but I have my ways of knowing beforehand," he continued.   
Yes, Marduk had his ways. He was sneaky like that.   
"Anyway, he's going to call on all young, umm," he glanced at Ishtar, "eligible girls to join his harem, so that he can choose a replacement queen."  
Crowley felt sick.   
"That's disgusting," she spat.   
"Please don't let them take me!" Ishtar suddenly blurted out.   
The demon softened.   
"Oh, my Hadassah," she cooed, using the girl's Hebrew name, "if anyone goes near you I'll castrate them myself."  
"Everyone knows I have a daughter," Marduk said sadly, "I can't hide her."  
Ishtar looked at the floor.   
Crowley pursed her lips. She would be in so much trouble for what she was about to do.   
"I can," she told Marduk determinately.   
"Oh, but-"  
"If anyone asks, tell them Ishtar went to visit family-"  
"I don't have any family," Ishtar interrupted.  
"They don't know that. They can search your house, Marduk, but they won't find her. She'll be with me."  
Marduk furrowed his dark brows, considering.   
"They won't suspect a thing," she added.   
"I don't want you to get in trouble."  
"I won't. Trust me."  
"Charvona, you are too kind."  
"Don't say that," Crowley grumbled.   
The last thing she needed was a reputation that she was kind.   
"It's true, you know," Ishtar told the demon, "I know you like people to think you're cold so they leave you alone, but I've only ever seen you do nice things."  
Crowley turned away, suddenly busying herself making coffee. She didn't want Marduk and Ishtar to see her smile.   
"Now, Ishtar," she started, bringing steaming mugs of coffee to the table, "if you're going to be staying with me, I'll have you know I'm very strict about my rules."  
Marduk chuckled.   
"Rule number one; no calling me nice, kind, sweet, or anything of the sort," she said sternly.  
"What about odd? Can I call you odd?" Ishtar asked with a twinkle in her hazel eyes.   
Ah, yes, the snark. Crowley had been so proud when Ishtar began using that typical teenage tone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is summoned to Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but necessary

It had been a few days since Ishtar had come to live with Crowley. Crowley's flat had few windows, and the few windows she had had already were draped with heavy tapestries.   
Because of this, Ishtar was able to safely roam the flat. Of course, they had plans for what to do if visitors did come, which was very rare.   
Crowley's second rule for Ishtar was not to disturb her while she was working. Currently, she was working on reading up all she could about Haman, trying to find a way to stop him. It was slow going, and the words never seemed to make sense, but hell if she was going to ask for help.   
Speaking of Hell, that was where she had to go, unfortunately summoned one dreary morning.   
She was reluctant to leave Ishtar alone, but she was also reluctant to see what Hell would do if she missed her summons.   
"Remember, Ishtar, what to do if someone comes knocking."  
She held Ishtar's hand, not wanting to let go of the girl. Not wanting to leave her unprotected.   
"How long will you be?"  
"Hopefully not long."  
She really hoped it wouldn't be long. She hoped to be back in at most a day's time. But what if-  
She had an idea.   
"If I'm not back in three days," she told Ishtar, scribbling an address on a sheet of parchment, "go here. Carefully. And don't be seen."  
Aziraphale wouldn't mind, right? Besides, hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.   
Ishtar nodded, trying to put on her bravest face.  
"May God be with you, Charvona."  
Crowley looked away sadly.   
"And with you, Hadassah," she returned.   
Crowley slowly shut the door, and walked out into the streets. She walked until the outskirts of the city, and then descended into the depths.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley reports to Hell, and unfortunately gets summoned by Lucifer himself.

Crowley hated Hell. It was damp, crowded, loud, smelly, an overall sensory overload.   
She had no personal space, not like on Earth.   
"Big thingzzz are happening up there, Crawly," Beelzebub commented after Crowley gave her report.  
"Yes, well, ever since that buffoon of a king, my job's been easy going," Crowley chuckled nervously.   
"It'zzz hard to believe Upztairzzz even hazzz an agent."  
Crowley scratched the back of her neck and tried not to look the Prince of Hell in the eye.   
"You zurprize me, Crawly. You're finally getting stuff done."  
"Hehe, right."  
Crowley looked around, waiting for Beelzebub to let her leave. He didn't say anything, just watched Crowley squirm.  
"Ssssoooo," she began uneasily, "can I go now?"   
Beelzebub studied Crowley intently.   
"Not yet," he answered wickedly.  
Crowley gulped.  
"Our Master would like to have a word with you."  
"Well, fuck," Crowley thought to herself.

She straightened her cloak. Fuck, she hadn't spoken to Lucifer since….well, since the Fall. Since he gave her that damned name. She shuddered. Every time she heard that name, she wanted to pull her claws through her skin. Fucking Lucifer. What did he want now?   
There he was, just as she remembered him from her nightmares. Sprawled out in his throne, just as smug as he'd been since creation.   
"Hello, Crawly, darling," he drawled, his voice slippery, "haven't seen you in quite a while."  
"Hey," she bowed, her voice barely a whisper.   
He clucked his black tongue disapprovingly.   
"Aww, Crawly, don't tell me you're afraid of me. After all we've been through together?"  
Lucifer frowned.  
"You used to create stars, darling, don't think I've forgotten."  
Crowley refused to meet his dark gaze.   
"I just want to talk to you, Crawly. Don't act like I'm going to eat you," he laughed, rising from his throne and descending to stand in front of her.  
"Drink?" he asked nonchalantly, a goblet of wine materializing in his spindly hand.   
Crowley wanted to vomit at the thought of sharing a drink with him. She shook her head.  
Lucifer shrugged, and took a slow sip of the wine himself, never breaking eye contact with Crawly.   
"I hear you've been doing good work up there," he commented, wiping away the wine from his cracked lips.   
"You know me, sowing seeds of evil," she responded, wishing she was anywhere else.   
"I felt bad, you know," Lucifer put a hand on Crowley's shoulder.   
"I mean," he chuckled, "we were equals up there," his blood-red eyes glanced upwards.   
"Then everything happened, and, well, I became king, and you," he poked a sharp finger at Crowley's chest, "became a nobody."  
He stared at Crowley, eyes boring hills into her demonic soul.  
"I hope there's no hard feelings."  
The king of Hell clapped her harshly on the shoulder, and she winced.   
"I just didn't trust you. You always seemed a little too caring."  
He took another sip of his wine.   
"But, lately it seems you've finally been doing your job."  
Crowley looked down at her feet, ashamed.   
"I was thinking, Crawly," he pulled her chin up to meet his gaze, "that I ought to reward you."  
She tried not to think of what that reward may be. Hell didn't give rewards.   
"How would you like to be a tool of Armageddon?" he asked, his face uncomfortably close to her ear.   
"S-sssounds great," she managed to eke out with a plastered-on smile.   
"Since you were made to help the young and frail," he explained, knowing full well how sensitive the matter was to Crowley, "I thought it only appropriate that you have a hand in ensuring the Antichrist is stationed properly on Earth when the time comes."  
"The Antichrist?"   
"I know it's in thousands of years, but you know me, darling, always thinking about the big picture," he smirked.   
"Yeah, big picture," Crowley mumbled uneasily, remembering the last time Lucifer showed her the big picture.   
He took another sip of wine.  
"I swear," he remarked, draining the goblet, "the humans are getting better at this."  
Crowley did have to agree with him on that. Ever since she tempted Noah to plant that vineyard, the humans have been perfecting the art of winemaking.   
"Well?" Lucifer looked at her, and the goblet vanished, "better hurry back up there. I hear things are getting exciting."  
"Right, of course," Crowley said hastily, turning to leave.   
She froze, remembering.   
"Thanks, Satan."  
Lucifer smiled, exposing his jagged and rotting teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only makes sense that Crowley was the one who tempted Noah into planting a vineyard. Plants, wine....


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale makes an important discovery about Haman.

Topside, Aziraphale had made an important discovery in their research on Haman. They had to tell Crowley.

Ishtar had been reading in Crowley's flat when she heard knocking on Crowley's door. Just as she had been told to do, she ran to the hidden trap door Crowley had in her bedroom. She dove in, and quietly closed the door over her just as whoever was knocking burst in. 

"Crawly!" Aziraphale called out after pushing the door open.  
No response.  
"Oh, right, Charvona! I made a break-through!"  
Still no response.   
The angel looked around. The flat was empty. They headed to Crowley's bedroom, feeling awfully intrusive.   
They couldn't afford to wait, Aziraphale convinced themself as they pulled aside the curtain to Crowley's bedroom, expecting to find the demon passed out on the bed.   
But the bedroom was seemingly empty, except…  
There was a presence, they could sense it, somewhere in the room. And it was human.   
Aziraphale's unnecessary heart skipped a beat. What would a human be doing in Crowley's flat?   
"I know you're here," they called out bravely. After all, it was only a human.   
"I won't hurt you. I just want to know where my friend is."  
The angel walked across the room, and that's when they noticed a gap in the floorboards.   
They knelt down, and with all their ethereal strength, pried open the trap door. 

Light flooded into her hiding space, and Ishtar scrambled to her feet, grabbing the dagger Crowley had given her.   
"I-I have a weapon, and I know how to use it," she warned, jumping out of the cellar and pointing the sharp blade at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was not scared, but they were very much confused. Why was there a child in Crowley's cellar, and why was said child wielding a dagger?

"Easy, my dear, I won't hurt you," they told her, holding out their hands.   
Ishtar narrowed her eyes. Whoever that person was, they didn't look like a royal guard, but then again, you never could know for sure.   
"Who are you?" she asked, still clutching her weapon.  
"I'm a friend of Charvona. I'm afraid this is all a misunderstanding. What are you doing in her cellar?" Aziraphale replied.   
Ishtar narrowed her eyes.   
"She didn't tell me she'd have visitors."  
"Ah, yes, well, I had something important to tell her and I couldn't wait."  
"What's your name?"  
"Aziraphale," they answered, then gestured at the dagger, "and do put away the knife, dear, there really is no need for that."  
Ishtar studied the man-shaped person. They were dressed in white robes, not out of order with the nobility, but they certainly didn't look like they belonged with the gaudy snobs. And their name, well, you'd have to be dreaming to find a Persian noble with that name.   
Aziraphale. Then the Lord Shall Heal.   
"Jewish?" she remarked quizzically.  
The person looked taken aback.   
"Oh, um, right, Hebrew name, yes, um, I'm Jewish," they stammered.   
Ishtar wasn't sure what to make of them. No one went by their Hebrew names anymore, if they even had one. But here they were, going by such a holy name without a hint of fear. Her own father had been killed for being a Jew.   
"How do you know Charvona?" she asked.  
"Oh, well, we've been acquaintances for quite some time. Occasionally, we work together."  
Ah, so a friend from work. She knew Crowley had some job, likely because she was a single woman.  
"Do you know when she'll be back?" they asked politely.   
"I don't-"

As if summoned, the front door opened, and both Aziraphale and Ishtar ran out of the bedroom to see the demon in question stumble in, looking exhausted.   
When Crowley saw Aziraphale, her eyes widened.   
"Aziraphale! What are you doing in my flat?"  
The angel looked at Ishtar, then back at Crowley.   
"Better question, Charvona, why didn't you tell me you had a child living with you?" they countered.  
Ishtar looked very offended at being called a child.   
"Oh," Crowley answered sheepishly, "this is my neighbour Ishtar."  
"Ishtar, this is my partner, Aziraphale."  
"We met," Ishtar answered icily.   
"I hope you didn't scare her, Angel. I told her to stab anyone that came in my flat."  
"She very nearly did, Charvona," Aziraphale sputtered.  
"Would one of you mind telling me what is going on?"   
Ishtar glanced at Charvona, who turned to the very upset angel.   
"I'm sorry. I should have told you," she apologized, "I'm hiding Ishtar in my flat so the king's soldiers don't take her to his harem."  
Aziraphale softened at the demon's response. Crowley always did have a soft spot for kids.  
They looked at Ishtar sadly. She looked about twelve or thirteen. She shouldn't have to worry about being dragged off to be a royal sex slave. What had the world come to?  
Crowley cleared her throat.   
"Well, seeing as that's all settled, Hadassah, would you mind going to your room while Aziraphale and I discuss our work?"  
Ishtar nodded, and climbed up the ladder to the attic.   
"Hadassah?" Aziraphale questioned once Ishtar had left.  
"Yeah. S her Hebrew name. Means 'myrtle.'" Crowley answered.  
"I know what it means," Aziraphale chuckled.   
Crowley placed a goblet on the table, and brought out a jug of wine.  
"So, 'myrtle' and 'star.' I can see why you like her," the angel commented.  
"Yeah, she's a good kid."  
The demon looked wistful.   
"So what did you find?," she asked, handing the wine to Aziraphale.   
"Don't you want some?"  
"No," Crowley grimaced, remembering Lucifer's vile face, "don't much feel like drinking."  
"Well, anyways," Aziraphale poured themself a generous goblet-full, "I found some interesting information about our Haman fellow. Might be useful."  
"Oh?"  
"As it turns out, Haman is a descendant of royalty himself."  
"Really, now?"  
"Yes. He's a descendant of the king Agag," Aziraphale revealed.   
Crowley's face scrunched up. Why did that name sound familiar?  
"Agag was king of the Amalek nation…"  
Oh shit.  
"But I thought Shaul wiped them all out."  
Aziraphale shook his head.   
Fuck.  
Crowley groaned, and suddenly needed something very alcoholic.   
"Fuckfuckfuck," she cursed, reaching for the wine and taking a swig.   
"Is something the matter, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, concern washing across their eyes.   
"Oh, nothing much," Crowley hissed, wine dribbling down her chin.  
She didn't bother wiping it away.  
"Just that this God-awful mess is my fault. Again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley breaks down, and Aziraphale comforts her.

Aziraphale watched their friend as she grabbed another jug of wine and downed it sadly.   
"Charvona, my dear, I'm afraid I don't quite understand."  
Crowley put down the jug of wine and threw her head back dramatically.   
"You-" she began, then swallowed back a burp.   
Aziraphale shook their head. She was most definitely drunk now. They silently prayed Ishtar would stay in the attic.   
"You remember how I swore my life to Yonatan?"   
Aziraphale nodded.  
"I was also Shaul's advisor, before he put me in charge of Yonatan."  
She blinked away tears, remembering the man's tragic fate.   
"Anyway, I, uh, had to tag along whenever Shaul went on war campaigns, y'know, since Yoni was there."  
"I know, Charvona, but I still don't understand," Aziraphale prodded gently.   
"We'll get there," Crowley hissed.  
The demon bit her tongue.  
"So that's how I ended up in Shaul's war room...tent.. space...whatever. When I found out he was commanded to kill the entire nation of Amalek, I was distraught, as you can imagine. I told him he couldn't possibly kill everyone, I begged him not to kill everyone."  
She clenched her fists at the memory, and Aziraphale desperately wanted to soothe her.   
"Of course, I meant not killing the kids. What else would I mean?" she almost shouted.  
"But nooooo, that idiot of a king thought I meant not killing the king of Amalek. The king of all people! If there's anyone strategically who it would makes sensssse to kill, it would be the blassssssted bugger king!"   
"You couldn't have known-" Aziraphale tried comforting.   
"Don't say that!" Crowley interrupted angrily.  
"Sssssso the king of Amalek, Agag, got away," she continued, shutting off the angel.   
"And he knocked up sssssome poor girl before that prophet caught up to him."  
Crowley gulped, wracked with guilt.   
"And now generationsssssss later hisssss dessssccendant is going to be the Almighty's tool of some terrible dissssasster, which we don't even know what it is yet."  
Her words were becoming more slurred, as she became more agitated.   
"And it'ssss all my fault," she concluded bitterly, taking another swig from the wine jug.  
Upon realising it was empty, she hurled it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. Aziraphale flinched.  
"Charvona? You alright down there?" Ishtar called from upstairs.   
"Oh, everything is spiffing!" Aziraphale called back, face etched with a worry.  
The angel grabbed Crowley firmly by the shoulders.   
"Charvona, you couldn't have known the future," they told her, holding her against their chest to ground her.  
"Lucifer did. S why I fell," the demon replied hazily, struggling to break free.   
"We're not talking about Satan, my dear, we're talking about you. And you, my dear, need to rest."  
"Ngk," Crowley grimaced.   
"You've had a long day. I suggest you take a nap, and we'll talk once you've sobered up."  
"Sssstupid Arm'geddon. Sssstupid. Always my fault. Alwaysssss a pawn in dissssasster."  
Aziraphale stroked the delirious demon's hair. Obviously something happened in Hell to get her upset, and now the information they told her. The angel couldn't help but feel a little guilty.   
"Dearest, I'm going to take you to your room," they informed her, picking her up.   
"Heyyyyy, w-wait. Ssss just a question! Don't wanna fall!" she protested dizzily.   
Aziraphale bit their lip, feeling somehow like they were violating the demon, seeing them in that state.   
As gently as they could, they carried the raving demon to her bedroom and laid her out on her bed.   
"Right, uh, Charvona, I'm going to make you some tea, but I suggest you get some sleep. Human or not, your mind needs a rest," Aziraphale announced, unsure if she could hear him.   
The demon didn't show any semblance of responding, so Aziraphale cautiously left the room. Crowley was sprawled out on her bed, looking very much out-of-it. 

In the kitchen, Aziraphale fumbled around trying to find the tea.   
"Aziraphale?"   
The angel jumped, and turned around to see Ishtar.   
"Oh! It's just you, Ishtar. You gave me quite the fright."  
Ishtar shrugged.   
"Um, oh, what are you, uh, doing here?" they asked nervously.   
"I'd ask you the same question," Ishtar scoffed, "is Charvona alright?"  
Aziraphale tensed at the question.   
"Oh, she's just a little worn out. Tough day at work. N-nothing a little tea and sleep won't fix,"   
Aziraphale fiddled with their ring.   
"Speaking of which, where is the tea?"  
Ishtar rolled her eyes and pointed to the corner of the kitchen, where Crowley had hung the dried tea leaves.   
"Oh! Thank you ever so much, my dear," Aziraphale brightened.   
"Who are you?" Ishtar narrowed her eyes.   
Aziraphale turned, tea leaves in hand.   
"Sorry?"  
"Who are you? You obviously know Charvona very well, but I've never seen you before. You seem to care about her, but this is the first time you've ever been here when she needs help. Why show up now? Why play with her emotions like that?" she demanded.   
Aziraphale pulled at their tunic anxiously.   
"I'm afraid we could get in a lot of trouble if we were seen together," they admitted.   
"Yeah, obviously," Ishtar retorted, mentally noting their fashion differences that indicated class divide.   
"But why show up now? Charvona has been the closest I've had to a mother, and I care a hell of a lot about her, and now you waltz in her space, and now she's agitated and rambling again."  
"M-mother?" Aziraphale murmured.   
They knew Crowley had a soft spot for kids, as much as the demon would like to say otherwise. But Crowley had always kept a safe distance. When they found out that Crowley was hiding a human, they never guessed it was anything deeper than just being a good neighbour.   
Looking at Ishtar, Aziraphale now saw Crowley's influence. Not her demonic influence, but her passion. They saw it in Ishtar's confidence, her questioning. They saw it in the green shawl the girl was wearing, the leaves braided into her umber hair. And of course, they saw it in Ishtar's fierce loyalty to Crowley, her found family.   
"I'm truly sorry I didn't come earlier, Ishtar," Aziraphale apologized softly.   
"Eh, it's fine. I'm just glad Charvona has a friend other than me and Marduk."  
The angel smiled weakly at Ishtar's response.  
"And I'm relieved she hasn't been alone all the time I was away."  
"Oh, your water's boiling," Ishtar announced, breaking the moment. 

"Charvona? Dearest? Are you awake?" Aziraphale called out into Crowley's bedroom, holding a tray of tea.   
"Ngh, angel?"  
"I brought tea."  
Aziraphale set the tray down next to the demon's bed.   
"How are you feeling, my dear?" they asked, putting a hand on Crowley's forehead. It was still a little clammy.   
"Eh, I've felt worse," she answered, rubbing at her temples.   
She had sobered up, but still had a headache.   
"Drink some tea. It'll help," Aziraphale coaxed, pulling the demon to a sitting position.   
"How drunk was I?" Crowley asked, taking a hot mug in her hands and gratefully bringing it to her lips.  
"Oh, I do think you've been drunker. I think most of it was how agitated you were. Something happen downstairs?"   
"Ngk. Don't wanna talk 'bout it," she grunted.   
"I understand," Aziraphale sighed.  
"Charvona?"  
The angel and demon looked up to see Ishtar standing at the doorway.   
"How are you feeling?" she asked tentatively.   
"Better," Crowley smiled, beckoning Ishtar to come in.   
"You never said you had a friend other than Marduk and me," Ishtar accused jokingly.  
"Cat's out of the bag then, I guess," Crowley replied sheepishly.   
"I'm so glad she found you, Ishtar. Don't know however she'd survive all alone," Aziraphale teased.   
"Hey!" the demon crossed her arms, but chuckled.   
For a moment, with the two people she cared about most by her side, the former Serpent of Eden felt happy.


End file.
